Then, in the language of the
Norse prophetess, "shall the sun grow dark, the land sink in the waters,
the bright stars be quenched, and high flames climb heaven
itself."[218-2] These fearful foreboding shave[TN-9] cast their dark
shadow on every literature. The seeress of the north does but paint in
wilder colors the terrible pictures of Seneca,[219-1] and the sibyl of
the capitol only re-echoes the inspired predictions of Malachi. Well has
the Christian poet said:--
Dies irae, dies illa,
Solvet saeclum in favilla,
_Testis David cum Sibyla_.
Savage races, isolated in the impenetrable forests of another continent,
could not escape this fearful looking for of destruction to come. It
oppressed their souls like a weight of lead. On the last night of each
cycle of fifty-two years, the Aztecs extinguished every fire, and
proceeded, in solemn procession, to some sacred spot. Then the priests,
with awe and trembling, sought to kindle a new fire by friction.
Momentous was the endeavor, for did it fail, their fathers had taught
them on the morrow no sun would rise, and darkness, death, and the
waters would descend forever on this beautiful world.
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